


Yet Another Lonely Christmas

by jasmineisland



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-01
Updated: 2013-06-01
Packaged: 2017-12-13 16:04:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/826149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jasmineisland/pseuds/jasmineisland
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was a Christmas prompt over at the ohsam comment fic meme- here's the prompt:<br/>Season 8 fic - With Dean's new hunter focus, raw personality he doesn't really pay much attention to the date. Two days before xmas he gets a call from Benny and buggers off leaving Sam all alone through the holiday. The second year now in a row without his brother.</p><p>How Sam copes with the holidays alone and whether Dean figures it out or not is up to author but muchos love goes out to someone who can get Dean and Sam back in sync</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yet Another Lonely Christmas

This was a Christmas prompt over at the [](http://ohsam.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://ohsam.livejournal.com/)**ohsam** comment fic meme- here's the prompt:  
Season 8 fic - With Dean's new hunter focus, raw personality he doesn't really pay much attention to the date. Two days before xmas he gets a call from Benny and buggers off leaving Sam all alone through the holiday. The second year now in a row without his brother.

How Sam copes with the holidays alone and whether Dean figures it out or not is up to author but muchos love goes out to someone who can get Dean and Sam back in sync

 

Dean opened the door to the hotel room quietly. The lights were out, which meant Sam was most likely asleep. No sleep for three days and running through a neighborhood of abandoned buildings had left Dean ready to drop.

When he exited the bathroom, he realized the room was too quiet. Turning on the light, he realized there was no sleeping brother in the other bed. For a brief moment, Dean was actually afraid his brother had done exactly what he’d threatened to do. Move on. Until he saw that Sam’s duffel was on his bed. He actually stopped for a moment to figure out of he was relieved or not that his brother was still there. Wondering where the son of a bitch had gone, Dean dialed his number. The ring tone brought Dean to the table, where his brother had left his phone. “Shit.”

Picking it up, he tried to figure out where to start looking. There were 17 missed calls. Somebody really wanted to talk to his brother. Before he could stop himself, he opened the phone. All 17 calls were from Amelia. A flare of anger went through Dean and he shoved the phone in his pocket. Making a decision, Dean opened his own phone and dialed Benny.

“You make it back to Sam?”

“Yeah. Look, Benny, I’ve been thinking, you don’t have anything going on now, right?”

“The offer to help still stands, Brother.”

“Think I’m gonna take you up on it.”

“Had it out with Sam? You okay?”

“Fine. Just tired of holding on to something that isn’t working.” Dean sighed and reached for the bottle his brother had left on the table. Over two thirds of a fifth of Jack gone. Great. “Give me a day or two to get him home and I’ll call you.” Hanging up, Dean took a long drink. It was time to go collect his most likely drunk brother. Something caught his attention under his feet. Looking down, he realized he was standing on M&M’s. The floor was littered with them, leading back to the bathroom door, where a large bag of them had apparently been thrown into the doorjam to split open.

“What’s up, Sammy? Battling evil bags of M&M’s while I was gone?” On the shelf just outside the bathroom door, was an empty fifth of rum. “Or having a party because I was gone?” Curiosity won out, and Dean looked around the room. Two glasses with sour egg nog were on the table, and the sight of something wrapped in newspaper caught his eyes under the table. The hunter didn’t have to get close to know that the wrapped object was actually a quart of motor oil. That realization brought back a vivid memory.

_“Food for me and food for my baby.”_

“What prompted the trip down memory lane, Sam?” Sighing, Dean exited the room and took a deep breath of the cold air. The hotel wasn’t really close to anything, and Dean knew his brother well enough to know that no matter how pissed he was, he’d never try to hotwire a car after drinking a fifth of rum and the better part of a fifth of Jack in less than forty-eight hours. So he tried to figure out which way to go. Walking to the end of the building, he looked around. In the darkness behind the hotel, it wasn’t hard to spot. A pretty good fire about a quarter mile back from the building.

“Drunk son of a bitch!” Didn’t take two guesses to figure out who started the fire. Running across the clearing, Dean  could make out the silhouette of his brother standing in front of the flames. “Sam!”

Turning to him, Sam stared for a moment before he spoke. “You’re back.”

“What the fuck?”

“Got rid of it.”

“Got rid of what?” Dean took a closer look at the fire. “Getting drunk and deciding to salt and burn a tree sounded like a good idea?”

A short, forced laugh escaped the taller man and he shook his head. “Nah. That’s a few buckets of crazy. Even for me.”

“So what’s with the M&M explosion and the sudden love of arson?” It clicked in Dean’s mind a split second before his brother spoke.

“Merry Fucking Christmas. Thirty fucking years old and Christmas is no better now than it was when I was thirteen.” Another laugh that was so strained it sounded more like a sob then an out and out sob would have sounded, and Sam turned away from his brother.

“Come on, drunk boy.”

“I wish.”

The sarcastic tone of Sam’s voice actually made Dean turn to look at his brother. Sure enough, he was not entirely sober, but not nearly as drunk as he should have been, considering the amount of alcohol that he’d obviously had. “So who drank all that?”

“What do you mean?”

“The rum, the Jack?”

“Me. Why?”

“Since when are you the hard core drinker in the family?”

“Since I was the only family left.”

Ouch. Not willing to get dragged into another fight, Dean held out Sam’s phone. “Amelia called about two dozen times.”

“Yeah, she wanted to wish me Merry Christmas, probably.” Taking the phone from Dean, Sam looked at it for a moment. “Wasn’t in the mood.” He shook his head. “That’s a lie.” Remarkably nearly clear hazel eyes met Dean’s. “Not going to start lying to you. Can’t talk to her.” With a flick of his wrist, Sam threw the phone in the fire.

More confused than ever, Dean wished he’d brought the bottle out with him. “Thought she was what you wanted. Thought, and I quote, ‘I’ll help you this time, and then I’m out’.”

“Doesn’t mean I’m going back to her.” Sam shrugged. “Can’t. Care too much.”

“You can’t go back to her because you care too much?” Shaking his head, Dean pointed to the motel. “Come on, Sasquatch. Sleep it off and tomorrow we’ll get you another phone and you can  call your precious Amelia.”

“Fuck you.” Was all the warning Dean got before Sam’s fist collided with his face. Even as he hit the ground, Sam stepped closer and glared down at him.

“You’d better back the fuck off, little brother.”

“Brother? I thought, and **I** quote, ‘Benny’s been more of a brother to me this past year than you’ve ever been.’”

“What the-“

“DON’T!” Pointing down at his brother, Sam shook his head. “Don’t even pretend, Dean. You and I both know you’re full of shit and you remember everything.”

The truth was he didn’t remember all of it, and none of it really clearly. But those words were way too familiar to Dean. Climbing to his feet, he moved a few feet away from his brother. “Sucker punch me like that again and I’ll kick your ass.”

“Like I fucking care?” Throwing his arms out, Sam stepped closer. “Go ahead. Better yet, where’s your gun? Garth’s not here to stop you this time.”

“Come on, Sam.” Dean stood his ground and stared at Sam. “I have been pissed at you, I have wanted to beat the living shit out of you, but I have never, and don’t give me that look, you know damn well I have NEVER wanted to pull a fucking loaded gun on you.” Green eyes stared directly into the other man’s and he sighed. “It wasn’t me.”

“Maybe not all you.” Shrugging, Sam turned back to the hotel. The world continued to spin after he stopped and he stumbled a bit. “But it’s okay. Reminds me to keep my distance.”

More confused than he already was, and that was saying a lot, Dean forced himself to stay long enough to put out the tree before he followed Sam inside. He shut the door in time to watch Sam almost drain the rest of the bottle.

“Jesus, Sam. Give it a rest.”

“Sorry, here.”

Taking the bottle, Dean almost laughed. “Yeah, not getting any was what I was worried about.”

Not anywhere near drunk enough to pass out, so agitated he couldn’t sit down, Sam paced back and forth across the room.

After watching him for a few minutes, Dean knew it was coming. He might be a thirty year old (Jesus, was his kid brother really 30?) man, but he could still read the signs of said little brother on the verge of a complete emotional bleed out. And since he was in no small part responsible for this one, he may as man up and deal with it. “Okay, Sam. Talk to me. I bailed on you for Christmas. Didn’t even realize-“

“Nevermind. Fuck Christmas. Who cares, anyway?”

“Obviously you do.”

“Nope. Don’t care.” Reaching down beside the bed, Sam pulled out a beer.

“Yeah, that’s what you need.”

Another laugh that really wasn’t. “You are NOT going to lecture me about drinking, right?”

“Looks to me like someone should have while I was gone. You actually drink like this around…….” His mind went blank.

“Amelia. Her name is Amelia. And we……. Both had some issues.”

“Which you both soaked in 80 proof?”

Silence met the question. “Okay, let’s just get this out. We can head to Kermit tomorrow.”

“Kermit? What the fuck? I told you I can’t go back to her.”

“Because you care too much. That makes as absolutely no sense, Sam.”

“Does if you’re me.”

“You want to explain?”

“You want to know what I was doing last Christmas?”

“If that’s where you want to start, sure.”

“I was in the back of the Impala in Wisconsin. Every single member of my family, everyone I’ve ever loved, anyone who was dumb enough to care about me was dead. And I wanted them back. But I wanted to be with you more then I wanted to bring you back here.”

“You what?”

“I was waiting to die, Dean. Figured it you were in heaven I’d find a way to get there.” Shaking his head, he sat down. “But see, suicide is a mortal sin. Maybe. Probably. Guaren-fuckin-tee if I’d done it it would have been. I didn’t want to risk going back to hell if you weren’t there.”

Okay, maybe, just maybe Sam was a lot more fucked up over their lives at this point then Dean ever imagined.

“Then I thought maybe you weren’t anywhere. Christ, I actually pushed speed dial before I remembered about Bobby, went as far as to dial Frank. So for a good two days I just laid there. Even missed Lucifer for a few minutes there.”

“Lucifer?”

“Well, at least the version my head created. Something, somebody to talk to.”

“cause the devil himself riding shotgun in your head was so much fun the last time? Come on, Sammy-“

“Don’t you come on Sammy, me, Dean!” His voice rose and he began to shake.

Here it comes. Finally. Saying nothing, Dean just waited for his brother to get it out.

“Anything was better than nothing! Don’t you get that? Six buckets of crazy, couldn’t tell what was real and what wasn’t, and it was fucking better then lying in that car listening to nothing! Christ, the PIT was almost better.”

That stunned Dean, and his expression showed it.

“You still don’t fucking get it! You were stone number one, you stupid son of a bitch! You were gone. My entire world fucking fell in on me and I checked out. I had no idea you were in Purgatory, but I swear to fucking God if I’d known I would have fucking cracked it open to get you out. And I would have dragged Lucifer right back out of the fucking cage to do it if I’d had to. Stone number one, and every stone I’d built myself with since. Gone. Just fucking gone. There was nothing left.” His eyes watered and he wiped them angrily. “So I picked myself up one year ago today and I just drove. I have no idea how long I drove, but I’m driving through Kermit and this dog.” Pushing his hair back, he shook his head. “God damned dog runs out in front of me. And it was like, like I’d killed something else. But I wasn’t going to let him die. So I picked him up and found a vet to save him.” He sighed. “The vet was Amelia. She was fucked up, I was fucked up, and it worked.”

“So what’s the problem?” Suddenly a lot more about his brother’s self-proclaimed retirement started to make sense. It hit Dean at that moment if Sam had continued to hunt, he wouldn’t have been there when Benny busted him out of Purgatory. That thought sent a wave of fear through him that he didn’t know he could still feel.

Staring at Dean like he was the stupidest man on the planet, Sam moved closer and tilted his head down so their eyes met. Suddenly it was like his legs forgot how to support him and he all but collapsed on the other bed. “Are you real?”

Responding to the barely there tone of his brother’s voice, Dean nodded and replied quietly. “Yeah, Sammy. I’m real.”

“Can’t be sure, you know? I mean, Cas took the crazy, but he left the memories. Every time I started to believe something, you know, really feel it, he’d take it away. That was worse than the meat hooks and the razors, you know? And even when it was real, before, it would just get ripped away.” Sam finally started to actually tip over from the amount of alcohol he’d consumed.

Moving quickly, Dean nudged the large man over on his side on the bed. “I get it, Sammy. I do. I’m sorry.”

Shaking his head slightly, Sam closed his eyes. “You don’t. You can’t. If I go back to her, she’ll die. If I let you in, let myself feel, if I let myself BELIEVE, it’s over. It’s like I’m already dead and I’m just too stupid to figure it out.”

Something snapped in Dean at Sam’s last sentence. He realized he’d been keeping Sam at a distance just as much as Sam had been trying to protect himself. Garth was right, they were all each other had left. He’d been so angry at Sam for what he thought was quitting. Walking away. When the hard fucking truth was the Sam had been done. Not even enough fumes to run on. Pushing long hair back off the now closed eyes of his little brother, Dean whispered. “I get it, Sammy. I do. We’re gonna start over at stone number one when you sober up.”

When the sun came up, Dean was still staring at the snoring man beside him. It was two days after Christmas. Couldn’t be too hard to find a cheap tree and a few skin mags for his little brother.


End file.
